Sunday, October 25, 2009

Chrysippus on Free Will and Responsibility

While reading this morning, I came across a passage in my book that I think relates well to our discussion on fatalism earlier this semester and also to the topic for tomorrow night: free will and addiction, and the ethical responsibilities for self-harming actions. The author starts by detailing the beliefs of the Stoics concerning the free will, or for them, the lack of it, possessed by human beings – except for the sage, but that’s a different topic. As the author puts it, for the Stoics, events of nature and human events are “parts of the universal casual nexus which is fate, providence or God, and so…predetermined.” Their critics attacked this viewpoint by claiming that if everything were predetermined, there would be no responsibility or good deeds able to be praised or bad deeds to be condemned, just as we were conjecturing about the existence of morality in a fatalistic world in one of our prior club meetings. Yet Chrysippus, one of the most eminent of the Stoics, argued for the compatibility of fatalism and responsibility in 2 ways. First, even if our actions are really predetermined reactions to external influences or impressions, they are still our own reactions. Chrysippus writes:

“Although it is the case that all things are constrained and bound together by fate through a certain necessary and primary principle, yet the way in which the natures of our minds themselves are subject to fate depends on their own individual quality. For if they have been fashioned through nature originally in a healthy and expedient way, they pass on all that force, which assails them from outside through fate, in a more placid and pliant manner. If, however, they are harsh and ignorant and uncultured, and if they are pressed on by little or no necessity from an impulse they hurl themselves into constant crimes and error. And that this very thing should come about in this way is a result of that natural and necessary sequence which is called fate. For it is, as it were, fated and a consequence of their type itself, that bad natures should not lack crimes and errors. It is just as if you throw a cylindrical stone across a region of ground which is sloping and steep; you were the cause and beginning of headlong fall for it, but soon it rolls headlong, not because you are now bringing that about, but because that is how its fashion and the capacity for rolling in its shape are. Just so the rule and principle and necessity of fate sets kinds and beginnings of causes in motion, but the impulses of our minds and deliberations, and our actions themselves, are governed by each person’s own will and by the natures of our minds.” (Gellius, Attic Nights 7.2.7-11 = LS 62D)

So, we may wonder, if it is our developed natures, which have been predetermined before our birth, (that is the reason for our throwing the stone from the hill) which cause our reaction to outside influences, and the reaction is ours (we do the throwing) – can it still be our responsibility for the event or its outcome? If we blame what we have been predisposed to, our natures that have been given to us, but it is still we who (must) react in a certain way, how much responsibility is ours? For Monday’s talk, is an addiction, presumably something of nature, our responsibility or only reactions to external forces?

The second part of Chrysippus’ argument for responsibility and fatalism is that our actions (or reactions) do make a difference, even though predetermined. The author explains: “To say that certain things are fated to happen does not mean that they are fated to happen regardless of what anyone does beforehand, but rather that certain outcomes and the actions which are necessary to bring them about are ‘co-fated’ with one another.”

This seems quite the paradox, then. It may be clarified as the author shows if we think about an example from the Greek tragedy Oedipus. It would be complete nonsense to say that Oedipus’ father would have had a child whether he slept with a woman or not. Yet he chose to take that risk even after being warned by the oracle that his son would kill him. He wouldn’t have chosen otherwise, but it was still his choice; it is his responsibility, even if the action (or reaction) was predetermined.

What do we think of this argument? Coherent and conclusive? Confusing and lacking?

5 comments:

michael papazian said...

Ultimately I think that the Stoic account of free will fails, but Chrysippus' point makes more sense if you remember that the Stoics were pantheists. That means that at least a part of us is god, who is identified with fate. That is why our freely chosen acts are co-fated. We are in essence cooperating with the rest of fate. Those actions that do not involve the cooperation of our nature are necessary and not free. This is the reason why Chrysippus devoted himself to refining the definitions of the modal concepts like necessity. He wanted to make sure that our freely chosen acts would not count as necessary, as they do on some of the earlier Megarian theories of modality, but simply as fated. The rolling of the cylinder is fated, but because it involves the nature of the cylinder, the rolling is not determined entirely by outside forces. Therefore, the cylinder may be said to be in some sense "free."

Andrea Lowry said...

Post-Script: an additional, potentially helpful metaphor used by Zeno, Chrysippus, and others is that of a dog tied to a wagon. The dog can follow voluntarily, happily trotting behind, or he can be resistant and then dragged – he will go the way of the wagon (or, fate) either way. So if I understand correctly, whether following by compliance or force, his action is his and he is thus responsible for it.

Zach Sherwin said...

Interesting post... I need to read up more on the Stoics. It seems, in some respect, an argument built upon semantics, and thus to a degree arbitrary; for example, take the following proposition:

"Any action not completely caused by external factors is 'free'."

While the above statement seems coherent with the Stoic idea of freedom, I'm not convinced that such a definition is not significantly arbitrary. Why is it that no internal factor could ever be sufficient to claim that an action is "free"?

The issue of intent seems like a problem. For any action Y, I can either intend it or not intend it. If I do not intend it, and yet it occurs anyway, it did not act in accordance with a free will, because my will was unable to supercede reality. On the other hand, if I did intend it, and it happens anyways, I acted in correspondence with fate, even fate did not play a causal role. Thus, if fate exists, and something results that I did not intend, free will cannot exist under the Stoic interpretation. Maybe I need to do more research on Stoicism, but I think that I agree with Dr. Papazian that the Stoic free will argument fails. Pretty interesting, though!

michael papazian said...

The dog example is to show that the only thing that people have control over is their assent to what is happening to them. Whatever is fated to happen will happen whether I will it or not, but my ability to affirm or accept it is up to me.

Part of the problem with compatibilist accounts of free will is that they reduce the free self to a very thin subject, if anything remains at all. This will come up in philosophy of law tomorrow when we talk about moral luck (or maybe legal luck?).

"Why is it that no internal factor could ever be sufficient to claim that an action is "free"? "

I don't understand your question. Don't the Stoics believe that the existence of any internal factor that causes my action would be sufficient to make it free?

Zach Sherwin said...

Dr. Papapzian,

"Don't the Stoics believe that the existence of any internal factor that causes my action would be sufficient to make it free?"

They do, and I probably phrased that completely incorrectly... my issue is the intentionality problem I raised below, where I tried to show that, for the Stoics, any internal "freedom" wouldn't seem to alter external circumstances, in which case such an understanding of freedom seems almost pointless to dignify. But, then, this is in accordance with a *very* limited understanding of Stoicism.